


Reprogrammed

by ArchiveOsprey



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Belladonna vs Kieran for 2 seconds, Chair gets vibe checked, Emotional Roller Coaster, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, I give up on trying to tag this correctly, Kieran getting tortured, Kieran vs Lauren, Lucy is there for two seconds, Parallels are everywhere, Read Purple Hyacinth it’s amazing, So much spice it could kill Williame twice, Symbolism 101, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26319295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchiveOsprey/pseuds/ArchiveOsprey
Summary: Imagine trying to summarize an entire emotional rollercoaster about Kieran White getting tortured and brainwashed into carrying out his orders to kill Lauren Sinclair, an intense Lauren vs Kieran fight with heavy angst, Kieran trying to hold onto his humanity and Lauren trying not to self destruct from guilt, endless parallels, and some spicy aftermath- oh wait I just did ~
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair & Kieran White, Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Comments: 24
Kudos: 81





	1. Reprogrammed Ruination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kieran POV

Part One: Reprogrammed Ruination

**|** ~~**Kieran** ~~ **The Purple Hyacinth |**

Kieran’s screams rebounded off of the walls as the Phantom Scythe shredded and clawed every last bit of humanity from him, but no, leave his hands, they said, or he won’t be able to carry out his orders. It didn’t stop them from beating him until he was broken, exchanging every one of his laughs, every bit of defiance with nothing but pain, as he refused to ever hurt _her_ again, defying the leader again and again through gritted teeth, snarling at them like a man gone mad. They muzzled their prized Purple Hyacinth hound with a gag, left him to bleed and die just to revive him with cold water over his head, repeating the process every day, giving him stale food and water and then torturing him until he retched it all out. He taunted them through ragged breaths, and yet he still didn’t give in. 

He knew the punishment for disobeying, he told himself, as his head hung, black curls falling in his face, spitting out blood as he stopped thrashing against the chains. He knew it was worth it, for _her_ , but even he was starting to forget her name as the days passed. Did she think he was dead? Perhaps it was better that way. But the Phantom Scythe wouldn’t let their prized assassin die an honorable death against their baneful Belladonna, no.

He had been sprinting across the rooftops after receiving his newest order: Kill Lauren Sinclair. _No,_ he had panicked, and then instantly realizing that he had said it out loud, , the messenger turning his head and inquiring, “No?”. He had spun on his heel and bolted out the door, knowing he had hours before they tracked him down. He had gone missing for 3 days before he was cornered by Davenport, and the battle had been ruthless and relentless. The lack of sleep and his malnourished state made him sloppy, and she had defeated him for the second time in his life, sighing and shaking her head. “I thought I trained you better, Mister P.H., I thought you knew you couldn’t escape from your occupation.” She was a perfect, remorseless weapon, and he let out a constricted gasp as she pinned him down, heel digging into his chest, twirling her golden viper blade, her laughs as dangerous as a poisonous flower with a tinge of pity. He looked at her, blood dripping down his split lip, and nodded in acknowledgment, in farewell, blood running down the poisoned slash in his shoulder, venom already coursing through his veins. At least if he was going to die he’d have done so against a well matched opponent. “Oh Kieran, you fool,” she had said. “The phantom scythe gives its traitors fates much worse than death. They’ll make you kill her yourself, and then you’ll be reminded you belong to them. As I do.” Her eyes darkened, but she laughed again, the sound wicked and sharp as her blade, "But at least I find pleasure in my work. You’ll only ever find pain, and for that, I am truly sorry.” She had hauled him to his feet, uncorked a bottle and shoved the antidote down his throat before he could react, injecting a syringe into his shoulder in sync, and it happened so fast that he could only widen his eyes, sputtering a single “Nn-No!-“ before everything went dark. 

Bound in chains, movements confined to thrashing helplessly in his chair, he hadn’t seen the judging glare of the sun nor the peaceful glow of the moon in hours, in days, in years, he didn’t know. He just had intimate knowledge of the pain inflicted upon him, day after day, the soreness of his throat from screaming and the only thing keeping him alive being the knowledge that he never once succumbed to their interrogations... but, of course, every man had his breaking point. A few days passed when no one hurt him, when his wounds were cauterized and his screams weren’t as relished, where he was given food and water that he didn’t instantly hurl back up, where he was preened like a prized falcon about to be let loose, a hood dropped over his head, left alone in the din, when he knew what was to become of him next. 

When the masked messenger walked into the room that day, he was nothing but a shell of who he was, a monster tamed once again by his handler. The messenger sighed, “I told you not to cross the leader. He’s very angry with you, but hopefully now we can give you a chance at redemption, Purple Hyacinth.” He wasn’t Kieran White, he wasn’t a man, he was a name whispered in fear, he was a sharpened blade stained with blood, and the messenger’s gloved hand was but a fist tightening around his hilt as he waved for the guards to unchain him.

He stumbled to his feet, and then fell to his knees, scars lancing across his skin, but no blood falling down them, eyes open and alert instead of being nearly shut from being bruised over and over again. His turquoise, aquamarine eyes were dimmed, for he had fallen into a deep abyss not even the police officer with the golden eyes and the red hair could claw him out of. The turbulent waves of his mind rippled in animalistic instinct alone as the messenger walked up, taking off his glove to reveal a death-white hand, backhanding him hard without pause, without hesitation. The Purple Hyacinth laughed without apology, grinning through his pain, oh so predictable, unlike everything else in his life. The petals of his apologies and regrets were stained in blood, his roots and leaves were withered to ash, and his soul which was once ignited with a flame of gold under the light of the moon was hardened into the cold steel of his blade as a guard dropped his katana unceremoniously in front of him. The messenger grabbed a fistful of his hair, wrenching it back and exposing his neck. He laughed again. All this effort, just to kill him off? He tilted his head back further. _Go ahead_ , he thought, a sliver of defiance whispering in the midst of the riots in his mind. _I dare you._

“You know what to do.” The messenger reached down to pick the fallen blade, and handed it to The Purple Hyacinth. His eyes dropped to the blade, smiling as if it were his closest companion, accepting it and rising to his feet. _Hello old friend,_ The messenger stepped away, holding up a picture of _her_ , her name etched in red ink. How appropriate.

A moment paused. Two. 

Three. 

Kieran shouldered past him, eyes losing their luster for good, only one thought in his head. _Kill Lauren Sinclair._


	2. Paradoxical Pursuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lauren POV, Lauren vs Kieran

Part 2: Paradoxical Pursuit 

**| Lauren Sinclair |**

Sleep was a concept that had been lost to Lauren long ago. She was gazing at her board in the Sinclair Estate, blood red lines connecting photographs and evidence that had once meant the key to uncovering everything, but now meant nothing, not anything at all, just a cruel reminder of her failures, and for the first time, she truly considered burning it all. She had spent so long trying to find out the truth for those she had lost, and in turn lost another person she had grown to care about, too. Where was he? A picture of Kieran, the only picture she had of him, in archivist glasses and an innocent smile that held so many secrets, a copy of his job application for archivist, a lie, hung in the middle of the board, a blue pin stabbed into the center of the picture. How ironic, the only picture she had of him was a lie.

The clock ticked silently but unlike Kym, she never cared much for time. Another concept lost to her. Her life had been divided into two phases. The mysteries of the night and the struggles of the day, but as the stakes had risen, they had merged into a dark eclipse that she couldn’t find a way out of. Kieran White went missing 7 days ago, a Purple Hyacinth left in his stead. How ironic, she had thought, covering her mouth in shock as she walked into the precinct, as Kym and Williame conversed in solemn tones, looking at her sympathetically. 

He had been taken, they whispered, or perhaps dragged somewhere else to kill or torture. An archivist had plenty of information, after all. Blood was found on the petals of the flower, confirmed to be his. His true fate unknown, only Lauren knew his identity, lost in the guilt that something had happened to him and she hadn’t been there, lost in the feeling that in some way, this was all her fault. She wished she never had her ability, perhaps maybe her powerlessness would be more justifiable. Her jaw set. Teeth gritted. 

_Useless_.

She crushed the newspaper in her fist and hurled it at the wall, grabbing onto her hair with her fists, screaming in rage, “WHY?!” 

“Ms. Sinclair?”

Her uncle was out of town, and in his absence, she had forgotten Lucy was there, too. Lauren stiffened, a deer caught in headlights, a vixen caught in a trap. 

“Ms. Sinclair?” Lucy asked again, a candle in her hands, which trembled slightly. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Lauren huffed, rage boiling in her again, “I am NOT fine-” she snarled, whirling around, eyes blazing.

Lucy flinched, recoiling back.

Maybe Lauren was a monster too. Kieran’s cruel grin lit up slashed across her mind.

_Selfish Hypocrite._

“I’m sorry,” Lauren whispered, horrified at herself. 

“It’s alright, Lady Lauren.” Lauren opened her mouth, closed it. 

A gust of wind, and the candle blew out. 

Wait, but weren’t the windows closed?

Lauren whirled around, taking out a flashlight, flicking it on. Nothing, but one of the windows was open, the curtains blowing softly in the wind like phantoms luring her away. "Stay here,” she murmured, turning and unlocking the door.

“Ms. Sinclair-“

They both were silenced by a SNAP.

Lauren whirled, flashlight focusing on the window, which was now shut. 

"I’ll be back.” 

She rushed out the front door, even as Lucy protested, pulling her hair up into a messy but tight ponytail as a figure darted in front of her, only catching a glint of a steel blade. She chased the figure down the street, even as they darted around lamplights, the moon and stars holding their breath as she removed her pistol from its holster, flipping off the safety as the figure evaded her gasp, feet somehow in tandem with hers, struggling to keep up, much less gain on them. She could see black hair, a white ribbon, a long katana at his hip. _Kieran_?! 

Her feet sped up, why was he running so fast, where had he been, _why did she feel like she was running into a trap_ , as they raced into the city, weaving their ways between the streets, he quickly scaled up the side of a building, hoisting himself up onto a rooftop, and she followed, shooting at his ankle in an attempt to slow him down. The bullet pinged off the roof, and she cursed as he turned to throw a dagger at her, which narrowly missed her, grazing her ear and free falling into an alley. She turned to look over her shoulder as the blade twirled through the air, and as she turned back around she saw he had stopped, katana raised in an arc over his head. She rolled to the side, and he missed narrowly, not even hesitating. She got to her feet, taking out a dagger from her boot, the blades clashing together, as she struggled to stay standing, the weight of his blade almost bringing her to her knees. She could see his eyes, a vicious shade of blue that she had only seen paired with wicked words. “Kieran?!” She called, eyes wide. He twisted his blade, disarming her in moments, and she reached for her pistol again, heart leaping in her throat. 

“What a monumentally stupid mistake, darling,” he grinned madly, pushing his hair back. "Kieran White is dead. Didn’t you hear?” She lifted her pistol, hands shaking, eyes wide in fear. 

He whirled around, and was behind her in half of a second. She ducked, the blade whooshing over her head, heart hammering. 

_He tried to kill me, he’s_ ** _trying_ **_to kill me._ the realization jump started her survival instincts, overpowering her shock, and forced her feet forward as he chased after her. She was nothing but his target. She broke into a sprint, dodging a shuriken that spun past her, arms flailing slightly as she panted heavily, his footsteps getting closer. That wasn’t Kieran, it couldn’t be Kieran- her footsteps sped up, and she reeled as she reached the end of a rooftop, heart leaping in her throat, turning around and screaming “STOP!”

He didn’t, eyes cold and merciless as he pulled back his katana again, spinning on his heel and slashing at her throat. She staggered back, slipping off the roof, grabbing onto the rooftop as she had those many days ago, when he had killed someone for her. He towered over her, hands a hand on his hips, other twirling his katana lazily. _Have you finally fallen for me, Officer?_ Instead of playful jest, or a playful smirk, he grinned cruelly, shaking his head with a * _tsk*_. "Oh, I wonder how I’ll kill you. I bet _he_ would’ve wanted it to be painless, but the leader, on the other hand... well he likes to send a good message to those who interfere with his plans, and I am but his faithful servant.” 

She glared angrily at him, and then snarled, “Fine, I don’t even know who you are. You’re nothing but a puppet,” even though the words stung to even utter. He didn’t even flinch. 

“Oh well, time to cut your strings, too. A shame you’re but a pawn, you could’ve been quite the queen.” He took out a small dagger with his other hand, tossing it in the air, and then hurled it down at her jugular. She turned and dropped from the roof, hearing the clash of steel against stone as the knife embedded in the wall behind her, knees buckling as she hit the pavement, staggering forward and then breaking into a run, the lamplight lighting her every step, her assassin chasing after her in the shadows provided by the rooftops, the moon weeping as the clouds covered its eyes. 

She tried not to think of Kieran. She tried to be selfish and think of only herself. Everything in her screamed that this wasn’t possible, that the Kieran she knew wasn’t a monster. 

She reminded herself that Purple Hyacinth was on the hunt, and she was his target, and it was enough to propel her feet further. She ran until her feet begged for mercy, she ran even though the wind was howling at her face, she ran all the way to the apartment that would perhaps remind him of what it was like to be human, where he stitched her and everything seemed to be right for just a moment. 

She kicked open the door and staggered inside, shutting it in Kieran’s face, seeing his lips twist down in a fierce scowl, locking it and backing inside, gun at the ready. The window creaked open to her right and The Purple Hyacinth dropped in like the grim reaper himself. He was alive, he was _alive_ , but she suddenly wished he wasn’t, looking around for a way to escape, but then deciding against it. No, she’d hold her ground. She’d face him head on, for one last dance. 

_Fine_ , Lauren thought as she gritted her teeth, as she rolled her shoulders, as she steadied her aim, as she fought back the tears that threatened to rise, her heart racing. _She could dance with death. At least she’d go down fighting._

His eyes were emotionless but sparked with a sliver of sadistic pleasure, a thrill that only came with a hunt, movements languid and precise. Perhaps things were always meant to end this way. Perhaps this is how it should’ve been from the start... but for once, she wished she could’ve been blind to the way his words were a lie as he said, “ _**I’ve always wanted to kill you** _.” 

She wished she could’ve been blind to the way it was the truth as he flinched and snarled, “It would’ve saved me a lot of pain and suffering if *he* never made that deal with you.” Again, detaching himself from the Kieran she knew, and her hope sunk further as she took a deep breath, exhaled, but still felt as if she were out of breath, out of time. 

* _Why are you talking about the purple hyacinth and me as if we’re not one and the same?_ * a sardonic, sassy grin, sparring over discussion, bantering over the simplest things, joking as if they were just friends instead of partners trying to take down the leader of the Phantom Scythe. 

Maybe _this_ was why. Maybe she wanted to think of Kieran as the man who fought by her side, and The Purple Hyacinth rather as the assassin who stalked towards her, eyes devoid of all the humanity in them. 

She had begged Kieran was alive after seeing the purple hyacinth in the office that morning, and now Lauren regretted every word. Anything would’ve been better than seeing Kieran turned into a soulless, remorseless weapon. 

**_“And I have no regrets.”_ **

“Stay back!” She yelled, eyebrows furrowing to fight the agony tugging at her heart, but she was unable to pull the trigger despite it all, despite the chill running down her spine at the empty look in his eyes. 

“ _Always headshots with you. You need to be more creative with your death threats._ ”

She lowered her weapon to his heart, tearing her eyes away from his, unable to bear it. _Shoot him, Lauren. Shoot him between his ribs and end it, like you should’ve the night you met. Like you should’ve on the bridge when you found out he was the purple hyacinth, before he could ruin anyone else._

She bit her lip to keep it from trembling, looking back up at him as he got closer, taking one step back, as he stepped one step further, one step back, as he got close enough for her to be backed against his only locked door. She was reminded of the cave where she screamed at him for being a monster, where he tried so desperately to prove her right.

“Why don’t you shoot me,” he laughed, a dead, emotionless sound, without a shred of mirth as his eyes flickered, something fighting in them. “Why don’t you _run_?” 

_Pulled into an alleyway, a hand clamped over her mouth._

_“Hello darling, hope you missed me.”_

Her gun shook in her hands, her jaw set, teeth grinding together. _Focus, Lauren._

_A hand around her throat, his eyes wild as he screamed, “Why are you so surprised?!”_

He spread his arms wide, “I’m impressed, actually.” The words stabbed deep into her heart, water dripping off the cave walls, the walls closing in around her, and Lauren was bleeding, burning, dying, even though he hadn’t yet inflicted a killing blow. Was he making sport of this, or was he holding back, _would she ever forgive herself_ if it was the latter and there was a sliver of a _chance_ and instead had embedded a bullet in his heart?!

_“Oh please Lauren, I’m the Purple Hyacinth.”_

Shoot him, Lauren! Her mind cried.

_“I_ _AM_ _a monster, and_ ** _I have always been like this.”_**

**Pull the damn trigger!** Her mind roared.

“I would’ve shot me if I were you,” he taunted, stalking towards her as if he were a black cat and she were a small, insignificant ruby throated hummingbird caught in his claws, a cardinal trapped in the snow, wings broken, daisies burned to ash, imagining the purple hyacinths he would decorate her corpse with, “Go on, put down the leader’s favorite bloodhound and never shed a tear, _**just like Kieran would never shed a tear if he strangled you all those days ago.** _Do it. Are you afraid?” He laughed again, stepping closer. 

**Screw this.**

Pulse pounding like a war drum in her throat, she lashed out, grabbed onto his wrist, twisted it hard so he cried out, kicking him hard in the chest so he reeled back, tearing the katana from his grasp and throwing it across the room. He lunged for her, taking out another knife, and as she dodged to the side, he crashed into his locked room, knocking the door off of his hinges. 

He paused, eyes widening as he took in the contents of the room. Drawings... everywhere... Lauren forced the stunned thoughts from her mind and charged forward with a war cry. 

She followed him in, raising her pistol, about to whack him in the back of his head and knock him unconscious, when he spun on his heel and grabbed her arm, holding a knife to her throat as she held a gun to his throat, both of them caught at an impasse.

_Next time things go to hell because of you I’m letting you burn_. Oh, how similar was their position, how different their circumstance, how changed his frustrated hostility had been from the current merciless, murderous look in his eyes, intoxicated by the memories of before and after, paralyzed by the frigid bite of steel against her throat. 

_Burn me, then,_ she thought. _Anything was better than this._

“We made a promise not to kill each other, we said nothing about harming,” she snarled, throwing his own words back at him. He recoiled, eyes flickering, something warring in them, indecipherable.

She dropped her gun. Raised her hands as he had in the precinct when he invaded her territory. Now, she was in his, and she was at his mercy, yet she still wielded the powerful weapons of words and a hope that somewhere in there, Kieran White still remained. “But I won’t hurt you. I sincerely mean it. So go ahead, Kieran White. Burn me. I’ve had enough of fire." The explosion, the screams, the cap on the ground, all dissolved away. All she could see was Kieran, his hands shaking as his eyes widened, and then narrowed, and then flickered with agony, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, as he looked past her to see one of his sketches, framed and bigger than all the rest in his room, as her eyes looked over his shoulder to see a sketch of herself, a smile on her face, a scarf snug around her neck. 

She felt like she was suffocating, all over again, but not because of Kieran’s hand around her throat, instead because of the tears that threatened to fall as he shuddered, his eyes meeting hers again. “Lauren,” he whispered, realization setting in, a bit of humanity settling in, “Oh...” his blade clattered to the ground, falling to the ground and bringing her with him, and Lune fell to their knees together in the middle of Kieran White’s apartment, two broken souls refusing to hurt each other, both of them desperately holding on to their sanity, desperately holding on to their humanity.

~


	3. Ravaging Revival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finale, Kieran POV, & a small Lucy POV at the end

Part 3: Ravaging Revival 

**|** ~~**Purple Hyacinth** ~~ **Kieran |**

“Oh,” his blade clattered to the ground, and dropping to his knees with a thud that sent shockwaves through him, bringing her with him, his hands trembling as he parted his lips, a choked, desperate sound coming out instead of words, tears brimming in Lauren’s golden eyes as he whispered “L-Lauren?

“It’s me, It’s me,” she repeated the words, as if they would keep him there, biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling, hands desperately holding onto either side of his face, wrenching him back to reality, into the light, and he leaned towards her as if tugged by a tether of blood and golden ribbon that held them together, that reminded him of a word lost to him through his screams as the phantom scythe stripped away his soul... but deep down he knew, as long as Lauren Sinclair breathed, they could never take his * _ humanity _ ..* 

“What happened to you,” she sobbed, her voice his oxygen in the depths of the sea he was beginning to resurface, hands shaking against his skin as she got a better look at the bruises and scars decorating his skin, “What did they do to you?!” She snarled through her tears. 

His eyes flickered and he remembered his objective,  _**his only purpose** **,** _ nothing but a well refined weapon ,  _ to kill Lauren Sinclair _ , his eyes going dull and emotionless as Lauren’s eyes flashed in horror, moaning, “No, no,  _ no- _ ” hope leaving her eyes. His electric blue eyes dropped to her neck, taking in a ragged breath, remember hurting her before, remember the fear in her eyes, and remembering a promise snarled through chains as they beat him down to nothing but a sharpened blade...  _ he’d never hurt her again... he’d never hurt.. he’d never.. _

“Lauren,  _ run _ ,” he begged, as her breath hitched in fear, or in hope, dragging him back to his senses.  _ Run before I turn into a monster again. Run far away and never turn back _ . "I’m not leaving you,” she demanded. “We made a deal, remember?” Her voice broke, but her eyes sharpened as she whispered, “If one of us goes down, we go down  _ together _ ...” 

_ Us… we…  _ such beautiful words, reminding him he wasn’t  _ alone _ . 

He still couldn’t shake the idea that they would both be better off without him to drag her down. His hand brushed a piece of parchment on the ground, a drawing of the poor children in greychapel who thought him a gentleman for only sparing them a few coins when no one else would. 

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, looking away, but she forced him to look at her, hands tightening around his face, nails digging in, eliciting a gasp from his lips as his eyes locked into hers again, the memories rushing back -  _ smirking over his coffee cup as a golden eyed girl snapped at a man who had no right to even be in her presence, hesitating in an alleyway, when it all truly began, eyes locking in the midst of a riot,  _ **_I dare you_ ** _ , a perhaps desperate but brave police officer facing the purple hyacinth himself and accepting his deal, running on rooftops, the wind in his face and his partner by his side, footsteps in sync, dancing in so many more ways than they did in the golden clover, offering to help his officer track down the murderer of her friend in the winter, sketching her smile, stitching her up on his countertop in this very apartment, before everything went wrong, oh, humanity, it was so beautiful, but she was human unlike any other... and if someone like her was begging him to stay... deep down, perhaps he was human too... _

Tears were dancing down his face as he opened his eyes, so utterly broken, but her hands around his face healing him, mending his shattered heart, if only for a moment, the hope fighting in his officer’s eyes one of the only things still impossibly holding him together. "Lauren,” he whispered again, as she sobbed quietly, desperation crowding her expression, “Kieran, come back to me,  _ please _ .”

Not The Purple Hyacinth. Not The Monster...  _ Kieran _ ... 

"I’ll forgive you for everything, just stay with me, I’m so sorry Kieran-“ her hands dropped from his face to grab fistfuls of his shirt, tugging him closer, and he gasped, stunned by the raw emotion blazing in her eyes. They weren’t just pensive... they were fierce, they were  _ breathtaking _ , they were the eyes of someone who never gave up, who laughed with her friends in the day and danced with assassins in the night, who did everything for those she loved... she had flaws, but they had only made her stronger, and here she was, trying to save  _ him _ , after everything...

Then she broke, shattered right in front of him, bowing her head, burying it in his shoulder as her arms wrapped around him, hands shaking against the fabric of his shirt, unleashing a fit of sobs that wracked his entire soul, and he remembered, he realized, that she wasn’t some goddess, she was human, too... and she * _ needed _ * him... not the purple hyacinth, but  _ Kieran White _ , and he would do anything in the world for her…

He felt himself being cleansed by her tears running down his shirt, the blood washing off of his corrupted conscience and being replenished by a strong, overpowering  _ need _ for him to resurface from the blood red paint he was drowning in. He breathed deeply, gasping in lungfuls of air, staring at her as if she were an oasis in a desert, a starved, desperate man, but somehow enough for her all the same.

Her tears were watercolor and his white shirt was but her canvas, and he found himself holding onto her too, arms wrapped around her, eyes squeezed shut. He gasped for air, shifting and pressing his forehead against hers, panting, “I’m here, it’s  _ me _ ,” his eyes sliding open, gazing at her. Lauren’s eyes flew open, so full of * _ life _ *, disbelief and fear waging war on her face before she looked at him, truly looked at him, her lips parting, at a loss for words.

He offered a weak grin, even as tears fell down his face, "Didn’t know you were so sentimental, Officer,” he attempted, and relief and a bubble of laughter between fits of sobbing erupted from her, looking like a flower, finally rejuvenating in the sun after a heavy rainstorm. She was a rose with gold dipped petals, a wildflower who survived the most bitter of winters, and she didn’t just make him feel human, she made him feel _alive,_ she made him **_feel._**

**** “Kieran,” she cried, pulling him into a deeper embrace, both of them kneeling together, moonlight pouring in from a window, the wind from the window outside the room blowing some of the sketches to the ground, parchment fluttering around them like flower petals, blossoms of life sketched in black and white, monochrome reminders that he was human. Her nails gripped his shoulders like thorns, and the pain shocked him back into reality, finally... although with the way she was looking at him, he was quite sure it was a dream. Dream… dream.. of course… all but a dream...

Of course, he thought. This was nothing but denial. This was just a dream. Oh, how he hoped he was wrong. 

“If only you were real,” he murmured, brushing an auburn lock of hair behind her ear, "I’m the reason sane people don’t sleep at night, Lauren,  _**there’s no way you’d stay for me** _ _-_ ” the last bit was a lie, for he hoped, he desperately hoped this was real and he wasn’t just imagining this in a crazed state, distracted by smoke and mirrors and nothing else and-

"Maybe we’re all a little insane,” she retorted, wrenching him closer so their lips were inches apart, and his eyes widened, going incredibly still. Did she feel it too? The way an unspoken fire hummed through them even though their skin wasn’t touching. "I’m real,” she whispered, “ _ this _ is real,” she continued, and he found he was incredibly desperate to prove her right. They were the deepest sea and the brightest fire, brilliant blue and ravaging red thread woven together into a tapestry of lavender and royal purple, onyx and ivory, two sides of the same coin, so different yet so very  _ alike.  _

“ _You_ _are_ _real_ ,” she said, words firm and unwavering. 

Her words stole his breath away, but he still managed to whisper, “I don’t deserve y-”

"Dammit Kieran, sometimes it’s human to be a little selfish,” she hissed, stunning him into silence once more, her eyes of ichor flashing against her moonlit skin as her lips crashed onto his. The world slowed and sped up all at once, his head spinning as he let out a muffled groan against her mouth, rising up to a knee, and she stood up, bringing up him with her. Just like they fell together, Lune rose up together, Kieran staggering forward so she was braced between him and the door next to the window, the wind whipping at his face as his eyes squeezed shut, hand tangling in her crimson hair, her teeth tugging at his lip as she wrapped a leg around his, both of their lips parting for a gasp for air. Their eyes slid open, gold meeting sapphire, gazing deep into each other’s eyes, and in that moment, they seemed to understand each other just a little bit more, for La Lune itself was but a mystery they both were desperate to unravel, electricity surging through them as their lips met again, in a war of passion and desperation, yet luxuriously languorous all the same, one of Lauren’s hands holding his head to hers, nails digging into his scalp, the other hand grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him closer to her, his hips pressing hard against hers, leaving them both gasping for air. 

His head bowed, forcing his lips away from hers, shaking his head as he rasped, "Lauren, stop, we can’t, I’m not a good man-” Even though his words tried to push her away, his hands pulled her closer, and she glared at him with such determination and defiance of his plea that had him begging for more, more, more he couldn’t allow- 

“You’re better, you’re a human one,” she growled, hooking her leg around his and flipping them around so he was pinned against the wall this time, eyes widening in shock as her hand clamped over his mouth, eyes fierce and hair slightly tousled. “Now *shut up*, subordinate.” The fight left him as he looked at her, the stars gazing down on them with wonder as he looked at her with an intense combination of desire, confusion, and panic all at once, dazed. 

How did she know exactly how to destroy him? How was she both his plague and his antidote?

How was she his ruination and salvation all at once? 

How were they both so alike in so many ways, despite their differences?

_ Why _ , after everything, did she still stay to fight with him, to fight  _ for  _ him, why would he do the same without a second’s hesitation. 

_ Make me feel what it’s like to be human,  _ he thought, his breath hitching as her gaze flicked down to his throat. 

He let out out a muffled whimper as her lips found his neck with a bruising sort of pleasure that had him clawing at her, clinging to her, silently begging for more, his head falling back as his delicate artist’s fingers pried the ponytail from her hair, a curtain of crimson closing the two of them off from the rest of the world, tugging at her hair with a gasp as she bit down, marking him, a desperate moan falling from his lips that had her laugh softly against his skin. “Lauren,” he rasped, groaning again as her leg unraveled around his, stepping forward so her hips were against his, willing her closer, closer, closer. 

He could barely breathe as her hand tightened around his scalp, tugging the ribbon from his hair as well. “ _ Payback _ ,” she growled under her breath, and he was suddenly reminded of everything that had happened, disgust at himself hitting hard as he pushed her away gently, hands trembling, untwining himself from her, shaking his head as he forced himself to tear away from her, limping slightly as he slipped out of her grasp and backed away, eyes everywhere but her, while he could still control himself, sputtering, “Lauren, I could’ve hurt you again, I could’ve killed you, please, we can’t do this-”

She seemed to snap back to reality herself, stunned, cheeks reddening slightly in rage or embarrassment or something else, or perhaps all at once, eyes going dim as she lifted a hand to her throat, murmuring, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me-“ looking away and biting her lower lip in a way that really wasn’t helpful to his self control. 

“No, * _ I’m _ * sorry,” he choked out, his own face reddening from shame, forcing himself to look at her as his usually suave demeanor fell away, showing his true vulnerability, agonized pain and guilt lancing across his face. "I’m so sorry,” he whispered, tears quietly falling down his face as he sniffed and forced himself to be strong for her. “You reminded me what it was like to be human... and I tainted it that day in the cave, so desperate to push you away, I  _ ruined _ it all... You were right about  _ everything _ , I-” he struggled to find the right words, hatred at himself clouding his vision, trying hard not to drop to his knees and break down sobbing until he drowned in his own tears of shame and regret, his freed locks of onyx hair sticking to his neck, seeing Lauren was fidgeting with the ribbon from his hair, fumbling with the white silk so like a flag of surrender he would offer to her time and time again, reminding him that he should run away, leave her to live her life without worrying about a monster like him ever again, before she took control of his senses again. 

Silence. One second. Two. 

Three. 

And then-

“Look, Kieran. I won’t fix you. I can’t fix you. I can’t even fix myself. We’re not perfect, we’re actually both quite damaged in a lot of ways,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “but healing for the both of us  _ will _ come with time, but it will come from ourselves alone, whether or not those who love us help us along the way,” she whispered. “But  _ I forgive you _ ,” she stated, pensive eyes sparking, flickering. “It’s about time you forgive yourself, too.” She looked away, sighing and running a hand through her hair. 

He faltered. The words crashed into him like a tidal wave, making his knees weak as he let loose a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, just to gasp in a lungful of air, rasping, “ _ Forgiveness _ ?”

Shoulders tensed, frozen to the spot, the word rolling like waves in his head before it crashed down on him again and again and again.

_ Forgiveness _ ,  _ forgiveness _ , forgiveness... what a beautiful word. His eyes fluttered closed, and the pain in his chest seemed to ease just a bit. “Do we deserve forgiveness? Do we deserve  _ peace _ ?” 

She looked at him again, and tears were brimming in her eyes again as she nodded silently. “Yes,” she whispered. 

His lips parted. Closed. 

“I’m not sure if I ever will,” he managed. 

“Then just for tonight, let’s forget, and tomorrow, let’s try to forgive,” she said, his words failing him again, her words stunning him from his dazed stupor of disbelief that  _ Lauren Sinclair _ was forgiving him, after everything he had done. 

How had she become so wise, while he had only become more weak? Or perhaps, in burning down like a forest caught in a fire, he had risen back stronger, thanks to her, and thanks to everything he had been through. He had survived, but it was moments like these he truly felt alive. 

The hypocrite was speaking words of truth and hope, and the monster was rendered vulnerable in a way that could only be deemed as human. 

He wished he could sketch the look in her eyes, but no amount of detail could capture the spectrum of emotion captured in liquid gold. Instead she stepped forward, and he did too, neither backing down as their facades broke, almost collapsing into each other as they embraced, Kieran holding Lauren to him as if she were the only thing anchoring him to his humanity, and she held him to her as if she held him close enough, she could at least  _ save _ him, unlike how she had failed to save so many others in her life. The partners fought back tears, both of them shuddering slightly, fighting to only think of each other instead of the horrors they had each survived, the pain that had forged them into the humans they were today. Her head rested on his shoulder, the two of them swaying slightly as if they were dancing. The world had forced them to dance with death itself, but with each other, they had found themselves, and in doing so, they danced on the golden and turquoise ribbons of life. “Stay,” Lauren whispered, pulling back enough so that they were still wrapped in each other’s embrace but their eyes could meet, foreheads pressed together, her eyes wavering as his eyes dropped to her lips. "Stay with me, Kieran,” she whispered, an unheard message flickering in her eyes.  _ Don’t leave me like the others did… _

Who was he to deny her? 

He bit his lower lip, letting out a muffled groan, a fierce, almost hungry expression crossing across Lauren’s face, increasing his desire tenfold, and he decided perhaps he didn’t want to push her away this time, perhaps he wanted her to destroy him and revive him all the same.  _ Save me, _ he silently begged,  _ cure me. Ravage me, ruin me, ...cleanse me.  _ He stepped forward, cupping her cheek delicately in the palm of his hand, gently brushing his lips against hers in a silent promise that he would never leave her side. They’d fight against the world together, they’d go down together, they’d rise up together, and he pressed each promise into her with a deep, consuming kiss, electricity surging through the two of them, stealing their breath immediately. She moaned against his lips as his tongue explored her mouth, tangoing with hers before they kissed again with more fervor, the former cautious, delicate, searing kisses giving way to burning, surging, all-consuming desire, Lauren giving an aggressive tug to his bottom lip with her teeth that drove him well and truly insane in all the best ways.

He grabbed onto her thighs and tugged her against him in one swift motion, the two of them gasping in tandem, eyebrows furrowing as their eyes squeezed further shut, her legs wrapping around his hips as he stepped forward, hands going to her hips and placing her onto the sketching desk instead of the countertop this time, a hand sliding up her back, free hand knocking the paper and pencils off of his desk, tossing the chair in front of it to the side a bit too roughly, hearing a splintering crash. He stiffened, turquoise eyes opening and flicking to the side to see the chair in ruin on the floor in the far side of his room. He laughed nervously, hands on both of her hips.  _**“I always hated that chair anyways**_ ,”  he lied. “Very uncomfortable,” at least that part was true.

“You moron,” she laughed, as she pulled him closer, the sound filling him with life as their lips locked again. She was his key to life, and she alone had unlocked his heart. He lost himself in every kiss, and in turn, found a version of himself he never had known before. When they finally parted, eyes sliding open, half lidded and full of a thousand emotions each, breathing heavily and staying silent, all the unspoken words adding to the atmosphere surrounding them, and for once, they were both fully content in each other’s presence, they were both at peace, even if for just a moment. 

Lauren smiled at him, and he returned it, releasing her and then standing up, leaning against the desk as she shifted to make room for him, side to side, eyes fixated on one another, before they roamed, looking at all the sketches around the room, his entire soul on display for her. She rested her hand on top of his, and he turned his hand over so his palm pressed against hers, his eyes falling down to where their fingers slowly intertwined together. 

They lingered there, beginning to speak of simpler things, laughing as if they were simply enamored lovers conversing in the night, as the light of the moon allowed them a moment of happiness in a world corrupted by chaos, hands now clasped together exactly as they were when they made their first deal, making a new, unspoken promise, to live instead of simply survive, to love instead of hate or despise.

It was then he knew, no matter what happened to him, Kieran White would always find his way back to her. 

As for Lauren, when he had hesitated, and she didn’t know why, if only she had realized how an assassin like Kieran could be truly human in so many ways, if only she had known this from the start, perhaps everything would’ve been different, but perhaps things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Perhaps they would’ve parted ways long ago, understanding each other too well, never turning back. She knew that, despite all the pain and suffering, if she had to choose between refusing his deal and  _ this,  _ being by his side as they found solace in each other’s presence, she wouldn’t hesitate to relieve it all again.

La Lune was a full moon tonight, complete even though there was so much they’d have to endure together come the dawn, and perhaps one day, they could rise with the sun, but at least for now, the blindest of all could  _ see _ what was truly important, the peace found in moments like these, the luxury of happiness being so rare in times like these that it made it so much more valuable when it was present. Moments like this reminded the pair that there could be a chance at peace, a chance at more moments like this, and if they had to fight with every last breath to achieve it, they would do so, for everyone deserved a chance at life, and if they could be by each other’s side through every hardship of the day, perhaps they could find peace in the night, like they did now, and it would all be worth it. 

Extra Excerpt: 

**| Lucy |**

Lucy awkwardly stood in the Sinclair Estate, and then shrugged to herself, yawning before trudging back upstairs. Lauren was probably fine, and unlike the Sinclairs, she needed to sleep. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My first ph fanfic! Kinda just a snazzy (but painful) Kieran being reprogrammed and brainwashed into attacking Lauren concept that escalated very quickly- Chapter 1 is slightly rushed because the concept was heavily centered about the events in 2 and 3 so they’ re significantly better imo. Hope you enjoyed!


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